Wandering Path and Bolt of Lightning
by Scylla's revenge
Summary: My 1st story! Murtagh, Eragon, and Sapihra are met by a mysterious girl who...well, I'll try to make this story as un-cliched as possible. But I have to start somewhere!I don't own the Inheritance cycle. If I did, I'd have published the 4th book already!
1. Chapter 1

_Where are they? _Murtagh wondered. Eragon had flown off with Saphira to find food over an hour ago; since then night had fallen and brought with it heavy, gray stormclouds. He hoped they would be back soon. Camping so near the road unnerved him, despite being miles and miles from civilization, in sight of the Beor Mountains. Annoyed at being left alone to guard the fire, he kicked at the dirt with his boot. They had even taken Arya, leaving him with no company; though admittedly an unconscious elf wasn't much to talk to.

While Murtagh would never admit it, perhaps he was slightly overwhelmed as well at having left the Empire entirely: he had spent his whole life under Galbatorix's shadow, and being so suddenly removed from it, though liberating, was frightening as well. Now there was nothing connecting him to his former life, except the scar on his back, his horse, Tornac, tethered next to the campfire, and the fading trail leading back into the Hadarac Desert.

The sky seemed to grow even darker, though Murtagh would not have thought it possible. Then the raindrops started to fall. Fat and cold, they spattered into the campfire and dowsed Murtagh's dark hair, chilling him. Shivering, he reached for his hood, and as he pulled it over his head he heard, faintly, the unmistakable clapping of a horse's hooves.

Bolting upright, he stared into the night: was it only his imagination that a dark shape was approaching from the road? It must be a stranger, since Eragon's horse was still in the camp, and Saphira was nowhere to be seen. The approaching horse was easier to see now, though its rider remained in shadow, and even from a distance Murtagh saw that the horse was huge: large even for a warhorse, and trotting directly toward his campfire.

Murtagh had learned long ago that a stranger was as good as an enemy to him. The horse and rider approached, and Murtagh drew his sword.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

Corliss had been riding for hours, flying across the grassland with a growing weariness. She was perched woodenly on her horse's black saddle, slumped over his cropped brown mane. Steadily the horse's galloping had slowed as the sun set, despite its rider's urging. She supposed traversing the Hadarac Desert had taken as much of a toll on the stolen warhorse, Turncoat, as it had on her. Her skin, still red and burned from the desert sun, began throbbing as the cold raindrops seeped through her cloak; Corliss cursed silently.

Once again she pressed the horse onward, squinting into the freezing night: she had to give her information to Ajihad as quickly as possible...and yet, Corliss knew she must stop to make camp soon. Fatigue was gnawing at her muscles and making her head spin, and Turncoat fared no better; she could feel him shaking wearily under her. Just as she decided she must stop or faint, she saw a light ahead of her. A campfire!

Normally, Corliss would be far too wary to approach a stranger's camp in the wilderness, but even a dying fire promised warmth and comfort, and she was too tired to protest. Half-heartedly tugging the reins towards the camp, she slowed Turncoat to a trot and, with a precautionary hand on the dagger in her coat, led him to the edge of the waterlogged fire. The horse snorted at the sight of a cloaked stranger standing by it, a hand-and-a-half sword unsheathed in front of him. "Hello!" Corliss called, somewhat desperately. "May my horse and I share your campfire for the night?"

"What's left of it, you mean," he replied carefully; as he spoke, the last of the orange flames died out, leaving a few sad little wisps of smoke behind. Corliss would have laughed at the coincidence, if it hadn't robbed her of any future warmth. The man seemed taken aback to see a young woman travelling alone on a warhorse, but his eyes remained narrowed suspiciously. "You're welcome to stay awhile, I suppose," he said after a long hesitation. His voice wasn't unkind, but he kept the sword pointed toward her as the girl dismounted. "Thank you," she said, smiling gratefully. The stranger, however, had seemed to instantly regret his decision; he stood with his hood still up, sword still unsheathed, for several moments, and finally grunted, "I'll tether your horse for you."

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

As Murtagh struggled to control the girl's stubborn horse, cursing its size, he also cursed his bad luck. The thought of another traveller meeting them on the road seemed so unlikely, he and Eragon hadn't even discussed it. And Eragon and Saphira would return soon...could he convince the girl to camp somewhere else? If she did see the dragon and his rider, she would no doubt learn of Arya as well, unconscious on Saphira's back, even of Murtagh's parentage; she might tell the Empire, the Varden, anyone at all...unless by some miracle she could be trusted. He looked over at her: she was removing a small bag and quiver of arrows from her back, looking weary. Her light brown hair was tangled into a braid, and dark brows framed her pale gray eyes, which were set in a round, sunburned face. "Isn't your horse trained?" Murtagh finally asked her, as she smiled at his efforts to control the beast.

"He is, but it's hard to make him obey," said the girl, going over to help him. She was studying him closely, but Murtagh kept his face expressionless. "His name is Turncoat," she continued. "And I'm...Corliss. Who are you?"

"I..." Murtagh began. Should he use a false name? She had hesitated too; was it a false name she had given? If so, why was one necessary for her? "I'm..."

"It's all right," Corliss interrupted. "Keep your name secret if you wish, and don't bother with an alias. Everyone has some things they wish to keep secret. I suppose you won't tell me where you're headed, either."

Murtagh, surprised by her straightforwardness, racked his brains for a story. "I...I don't think I can," was all he managed. The girl didn't seem too put off by this; on the contrary, she shrugged in understanding. "Then my destination and purpose can remain private as well. Shall I start the campfire again?" she asked, pointing to the damp firewood. "It's stopped raining now. It was probably just a cloud burst."

"You sound as though you've been here often," Murtagh observed, noticing her casual change of subject. "But if you can get wet firewood to burn, be my guest."

Corliss smiled. "I'll see what I can do, O Nameless One." After only a few moments bent over the pile, she managed to create a little tongue of flame that lapped at the wood as though the logs had been dry for days. Murtagh's eyes narrowed again. He had heard her whisper a word over the flint she was using...what had she said? _Brisingr..._ he had heard Eragon use that word too. He decided that he needed to know what she was doing here immediately. He would kill her if necessary, if she proved a threat to him or to Eragon, whom he had sworn to keep safe. "I am curious," he began slowly. "Why are you travelling alone, through such an...empty place? Aren't you rather young to be doing so?"

Now Corliss glared at him. A malicious look gleamed in her eyes as she countered, "And I would ask you the same, except that you're clearly not travelling alone. You have a second horse, and more supplies than a single person needs. "Who else is travelling with you?"

Murtagh reached for his swordhilt- what he intended to do he didn't know- but was interrupted by a loud whinney from Turncoat, and the sudden sound of wingbeats reached the camp. "What's that?" Corliss asked warily, drawing her knife again, peering at the dark blue shape in the sky.

"Blast," Murtagh muttered. Eragon and Saphira were back. Surely, _surely_ Saphira would sense the stranger in the camp. Surely Eragon and his dragon wouldn't be stupid enough to reveal themselves to Corliss...he hoped.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

_Eragon, _Saphira spoke in her rider's mind warningly. _Murtagh is no longer alone at the camp; a stranger has arrived while we were gone. I can smell another human's presence there._

Eragon peered in the direction of the camp, but was forced to rely on Saphira's keener senses. He couldn't smell or see any difference in the little campsite from this distance. "Land anyway," he advised her.

Saphira seemed doubtful. _Are you certain this is wise, little one?_ she asked, but he nodded before she was finished speaking. "Of course. We can't stay away from the camp all night anyway, even if it's stopped raining. Arya needs to rest in the tent. And what's the worst that one person can do? Murtagh will have it under control."

Shrugging her massive shoulders, Saphira angled her wings down toward the camp.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

Murtagh's last thought before Eragon and Saphira landed was _"At least...at _least_ he can't be stupid enough to reveal my name."_

"Murtagh!" yelled Eragon has he landed in front of a dumbstruck Corliss. "What's going on here?"


	2. Chapter 2

Here's chapter 2! Thanks for being so patient, but I'm a slow writer and am not quite sure what direction this story will be going in (any suggestions would be welcome!). Let me know what you think, cause this was hard to write (dialogue is always hard for me to write...ugh) Enjoy!

"Murtagh! What's going on here?" the boy exclaimed, leaping off of the great blue dragon, whose scales had doused the entire camp—including a stunned Corliss—in glittering azure light.

"A _dragon?" _exclaimed the girl, utterly shocked. "And you're...you're a dragon rider! What...I didn't think..."

Her trailing voice was cut off by the first boy- _Murtagh_- who slapped his hand to his forehead. "Yes, this is the _brilliant _Rider, Eragon." He whirled to face the sandy-haired boy who stood next to the dragon, looking angry. "How could you be so stupid? Why did you land here? You just blew our cover, _my_ cover, everything!" Murtagh burst out, looking livid.

_Eragon did believe the best solution was to land, despite any travelers you met on the road. We would be more than a match for them,_ the dragon offered, its voice projected to the entire camp, making Corliss jump in surprise. Eragon shook his head. "Why did _you_ allow a stranger to stay in the camp in the first place? If our cover's blown, it's your fault!"

Murtagh's face reddened. "My fault!" he repeated furiously. "She was about to collapse. What was I supposed to do, let her freeze to death?"

Angrily, Corliss tried unsuccessfully to interrupt their argument. Finally the dragon lifted an ivory claw and shoved the two boys apart. With what could only be exasperation, the dragon nodded at the girl. _What is your name, young one?_ it asked her.

"Corliss," she replied, bowing to the dragon respectfully. "And you…you must be the Dragon and Rider that have been traversing the Empire for the last several months. I didn't quite believe the rumors I heard, to tell the truth. I certainly didn't think I would be meeting you in person." She tried to meet the dragon's icy blue gaze, but after a moment her eyes shifted uncomfortably to the Rider.

"Her name is Saphira," Eragon supplied, most of the anger gone from his eyes, replaced by caution.

"And you are Murtagh," Corliss addressed Murtagh slowly. "It's good to finally learn your name." He looked at her suspiciously. His name seemed a bit familiar...but where had she heard it before? And he had been so reluctant to reveal his name...what was he hiding? "I'm sorry that I intruded on your camp, but I desperately needed rest," she added after a moment, smiling apologetically. She would worry about the name later, when she had time to think.

_That's quite all right,_ Saphira assured her. Eragon sheepishly glanced at Murtagh, who rolled his eyes. _But why were you travelling this way in the first place? There are few sightseers so near the Hadarac Desert, _Saphira continued.

Corliss let out her breath. That topic was bound to come up at some point, she supposed. "I am…sworn to secrecy," she said evasively. "But perhaps I can help you on your journey…wherever you are headed. I know these parts well." She waited while they considered her words. Saphira and Eragon were clearly discussing it in their minds, but Murtagh's eyes were narrowed as though his was already made up.

"We would be glad to accept your help, Corliss," Eragon told her after a moment. "But we would need to take certain…precautions first. You must swear in the Ancient Language that you are not our enemy or mean any of us harm. You also must tell us your true motives for travelling through the Hadarac Desert—we will swear these things as well, if you wish."

Corliss nodded slowly; this seemed fair, and it was unlikely that any of them, even Murtagh, would or could harm her after such an oath. "_Eka ai fricai, un mulabra ono ne haina_," she said in reply.

"Did I mention, she knows the Ancient language?" Murtagh asked Eragon wryly. Corliss rolled her eyes. "I am a friend, and mean you no harm," she repeated. "I have worked for the Varden for three years. I am returning there now, from an undercover mission in Uru'baen. I have urgent news for Ahijad, the Varden's leader."

Murtagh and Eragon exchanged glances. "You're a spy for the Varden?" Eragon asked. "But you're so young!"

"And you're young for a Dragon Rider," she retorted. "I'm 18...probably older than you." Mollified, Eragon said, "You must have incredible skill, to be trusted with spy missions at such an age." Corliss's sunburned face turned slightly redder.

"What information do you have for the Varden?" asked Murtagh.

"Galbatorix is marshalling Urgals to fight the Varden. They must know that Galbatorix's ranks have almost doubled in size because of this, and be prepared before the Urgal forces attack," Corliss said grimly.

"Urgals!" exclaimed Eragon in surprise. He clenched his teeth. "Saphira and I would be glad to be of help. This explains who their master is, and why they've been travelling in such large forces, attacking towns like Yazuak."

_This news makes our journey to the Varden even more urgent, _Saphira said. She explained to Corliss their rescue of Arya, and their journey out of the Empire. _You could aid us in reaching the Varden before it is too late for Arya, _she told her. _But we have only days remaining._

"You rescued the egg-courier! That's incredible! I'd never met her, but I heard she is an incredible warrior and magician. We'll have to ride even faster in order to save her."

"So it's agreed? We will all go the Varden together?" Eragon asked hopefully.

"Yes-" Corliss started to say, but Murtagh interrupted her. "Remember, Eragon, I will see you to the Varden, no further. I _will _leave you both before we reach them."

Corliss raised her eyebrows. "We're not all that bad, you know." Her voice was light, but her eyes were narrowed and calculating. Why would Murtagh have such an aversion for the Varden?

_"So_," repeated Eragon, looking impatient, "It's all settled. We'll set off at dawn."

Gratefully, Corliss turned to her makeshift bed, but then remembered something. "Not so fast, Eragon. You have to swear your secrecy in the Ancient Language too, remember?" She waited expectantly as Eragon repeated her oath. Saphira did the same, and Corliss turned to Murtagh. "Well?"

Grudgingly, Murtagh nodded, and spoke the oath as well. "_Eka ai friai, un mulabra ono ne haina_."

_We begin at dawn, then._ Saphira trudged to the edge of the camp, where she curled up like a cat and yawned. Eragon moved Arya to the tent, then lay down under Saphira's wing. Corliss turned to her blanket wearily, and glanced back at the rest of the group. Murtagh was sitting on his blankets several yards away; suddenly he looked up and met her stare. She could see, even in the dark, the dark brown of his eyes, and looked away quickly.

Corliss lay on her blankets, thoughts swirling around her head, fighting with her weariness. Just before she fell asleep, she remembered with a jolt where she had heard Murtagh's name. Ajihad had mentioned it to her once...he had been speaking of the Thirteen Forsworn!


End file.
